


Sandor and his Little Bird

by tigereyes45



Series: Sandor and his Bird [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-12-18 20:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigereyes45/pseuds/tigereyes45
Summary: Sandor is now a guard in winterfell for the wardeness in the north, Lady Sansa Stark. As Jon and Daenaerys work together to fight of the white walkers and eventually take the throne Sandor remains. Winterfell needed all the competent guards it could get at the moment.





	1. Men always want to kill others

Sandor had never like littlefinger. Sandor never liked anyone he met at Kings Landing. Well, with one exception. Littlefinger toyed with her just as everyone else had. Yet while Sandor enjoyed her presence Littlefinger always enjoyed more. In a way that Sandor knew he was trying to find exploits in the girl. Ones he could use against her and hurt her with.

The thoughts send him deeper. Everyone in King’s Landing was the same way, but Finger was the best at the game. Games were not fun for the hound. Especially the games Littlefinger plays. That even now his little bird plays as well.

Yet he was not angry. It was when the door did not close that Sandor's temper grewa. “What do you want?” He asks brusquely, while kicking off some of the dirt from the bottom of his boots.

“To talk.” Wrong person to show up.

“As you did with Sansa?” Sandor turns on the man. Choosing to use his height to try and scare the unwanted guest a little. Intimidation had always worked as a close second to killing.

“Sansa? Are you so close to her that you need not use her title? She is making friends in very low places, that Sansa.”

Sandor laughs. “Say your piece. Before I decide to kick you out.”

“Why are you guarding Lady Stark?” Petyr questions.

“Is she a Stark? Last time I checked being a widow does not mean the returning of one’s maiden name.” Sandor comments as his fingers carelessly wrap around the pommel of his blade. The hound would not use it. The gesture was only meant to draw Petyr's attention to the sword in case he forget who he was dealing with. Sandor was no pushover unlike the other honorable knights Petyr knew.

Petyr’s jaw tightens. He keeps on the same slimy smile he always used with the Lannisters. “That is her choice. Not ours to question. Now as for your answer.”

“Because she is paying me.” The hound answers honestly. He truly hates the man standing before him. Petyr Baelish had sold Sansa Stark to the Boltons. On some level he even believed Cersei Lannister may have convinced him to. Both of them were wicked enough for the idea to have crossed their minds. Yet Baelish carried it out.

“That is all it takes to earn your loyalty? I seem to remember the king paying you as well. Yet you ran from a battle stating, 'fuck the king'. Will you not do the same to the Lady of the North?”

Petyr was testing him. Trying to see if there was another reason behind Sandor’s motives. He had already questioned Sansa earlier over Sandor’s position. The lady told him that he was her newest guard. He would also be her closest in the absence of Brienne. Petyr had stared him down as he tried to convince Sansa to choose otherwise. Her words made Sandor proud. ‘The Hound had watched over me well enough in Kings landing. I trust him to watch over me here.’ To that Petyr had no rebuttal. If he did he did not share it with the Lady at least.’

“The wardeness of the north knows what she’s doing. Unlike your cunt self.” Sandor responds. He walks closer to Petyr causing the man to take a step back towards the door. Sandor smirks. He gestures with his head towards the door. “Go. Before I decide to ignore the wardeness’ orders and take your head myself.”

“This is not done Ser Clegane.” Petyr sounds as if he is certain. Sandor does not think the man is use to losing. “Eventually the wardeness will wed and I do not her husband would appreciating such a threatening man around his wife.”

“Did I threaten the imaginary man myself?” Clegane asks as Petyr steps out.

“You might have.”

Sandor laughs heartily. “You think she will marry you? The man who sold her to the Boltons?”

“I didn’t know,”

“What? You didn’t know that the men who aided in killing her mother, and brother wouldn’t treat her as anything less then a lady? We both know that’s a lie.” Joffery was a cruel cunt, but the people who worked directly under him were worse. Petyr and Sandor were some of the worst around. Sandor was willing to kill or injure anyone the king wanted him to. Petyr, well Baelish was always a sneaky man. Sandor was sure that he had done things to people the guard could never imagine.

“And if it wasn’t for the fact that Ramsey is already dead I would have killed you both at the same time.”

“I’m an ally to the lady. I don’t think she would appreciate you treating her allies this way.”

Sandor rolls his eyes. “I don’t really care what the wardeness wants. As long as she’s alive and breathing she can be displeased with me.” With that Sandor slams his door shut and clambers over to his bed. Sandor Clegane tosses off his boots and holds his sword a little closer to his body. This was not done. Baelish would not stop until he was wed, or dead.


	2. Lectures

Sansa reads the papers before her with a grim expression. Often nowadays she seemed to either glower at everything or give everyone a simple, grim expression. Sandor stands patiently at her shoulder. Awaiting orders as he looks around. Away in the furthest corner was where Arya stood, remaining as silent as a frighten child in trouble would. Yet she wasn’t afraid. Sandor could see it in her eyes. Whatever happened to the little wolf after she abandoned him had changed her, and while he was proud that the wolf could now beat any other man here with a sword, he was suspicious of her.

“Sandor. I need to speak with Alys Karstark. Please send one of the other guards to bring her here.”

He grunts in reply before listening to the command. Sansa was not happy to hear from Petyr what had occurred the other day. The little rat had told her that Clegane had corner him with threats to his person. It was not a complete lie, but Sandor had cornered no one. He made that clear when Sansa questioned him over the incident. Now she was colder than he had ever seen her be with himself.

Opening the door, Sandor barked the order towards the closest guard. Sandor threatens to kill the man if his feet did not move any faster than the snail pace he had chosen to begin with. When The Hound pulls back his great head Arya was snickering in her corner as Sansa gave him a stink eye. What had he done wrong now?

“Ser Clegane while I do appreciate your eagerness for things to be done quickly I can not have you always threatening everyone around us.”

“I haven’t threaten the wolf-b, the little wolf, have I?”

Sansa’s eyebrow twitches at the lack of care Sandor had for the use of his old nickname for Arya. “My sister is not one for whom I am worried about around you.” Sansa says trying to remain proper. “There have been many complaints Clegane, and if you are to serve me I need you to cease the needless threats to the men and women within the walls of Winterfell.”

Sandor crosses his arms as he leans against the front door. “My job is to protect you.”

“How is threatening the people I am leading protecting me?”

“Threatening the Little dick was well about protecting you.”

“Cornering him,”

“He came to my room.” Sandor reinstates.

“He did?” Arya asks with a smile. “How did he ever manage to leave alive?” She was joking, but Sandor knew well that Petyr Baelish almost did not.

“Whether if he came to you or not is not my problem.” Sansa sighs and brings a hand to her head.

“You knew there would be problems when you hired me.”

“I thought they would be about who you are, and what you’ve done. Not what you’re doing and who you have become.”

“I’m better now.” Was all Sandor admits before looking away.

“Crime has gone down. Less stealing, less complaining. With him around there have even been less complaints over the guards competency.” Arya reminds her sister.

“Thank you Arya now please remain quiet and sullen in that little corner of yours. I am speaking to my sworn sword.” Sansa snaps back at her sister. The younger Stark girl watches her sister, a strange calm overtaking her features as she steps back again. Never had he seen the girl take insult or command without argument. She had grown up much in their time apart. Sansa stands impatiently. “Sandor I am not asking you to stop altogether. I know you will not. I only request that you refrain yourself from doing so as often as you can.” Sansa stands tall and proud as she looks up into his eyes. She was just a few breaths away. He was acutely aware of the distance and how less it kept growing with every step of hers.

“Can you promise me that Clegane?”

He is reluctant as he answers. “I will try. That is all. I won’t be making promises like a little lord who does not know the value of a word.”

“I suppose that is all I can expect.” Sansa says, disappointed. Swiftly with the grace of a bird swerving in the air she turns her back to him. “The next time it happens without just cause for it I will have to punish you Clegane. I can not allow any soldiers, even my sworn shield to disobey orders.”

A knock on the door tells them that her guest had arrived. “Arya, Sandor you are both dismissed. I wish to have a few words with Alys alone.”

“Yes my lady.” Arya whispers before she opens the door. Silent steps and the younger girl is gone. Sandor was less cooperative in leaving, but one look from Sansa told him that she had been tried enough today. It was time to listen to the wardness. So with a low grunt he too takes his leave.

“You were right.”

“Sneak up on me like that again and I can’t promise your safety Little Wolf.” Sandor informs Arya.

“If I didn’t think I could protect myself I would not do so.”

“Just cause she has more training the wolf believes she can beat anyone.”

“With the element of surprise.” Arya adds. “But as I said. You were right.”

“About what?” Sandor asks her as he continues to walk away.

“About threatening Baelish.”

“I don’t remember his name being on your list.” Sandor sneers.

“He isn’t, but I’m starting to wonder if he should have been. He wants a title to the north. He wants Sansa. I don’t trust him.”

“You can not protect your sister from the whims of men. Even if you are a fierce wolf-bitch.” Sandor reminds her. “Many men will want your pretty sister.”

“Including you?”

Sandor halts a frigid chill going up his spine. “What was that? Be careful what you say next.”

“When I left you. You spoke of my sister. If you harm her hound I will come for you.” Arya threatens. “But I don’t think you will. I think you honestly just like her even if she may never marry you.”

“You need to stop talking so much Stark. It’ll get you killed. Just like it did your father.” The Hound leaves her with the memory as he storms away. Now he was twice as pissed as he had been before.


	3. Heel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clothes and sharp tongues. The Hound thought he was the one winning.

“Good morning Hound.” Arya says plainly as she walks by the large man.

“Don’t start shit today Little wolf.” The Hound warns her as he follows her within the room where Lady Sansa was sitting.

The Lady of Winterfell held a deep frown on her face as her closest allies walk in. She looks up to give them a nod in greeting before informing Arya that they need more people to train people outside of winterfell. Sandor saw the worry in Sansa’s deep blue eyes as she explained their situation.

“If not to stay there and train them we need to try and bring more people here. Not the whole of Winterfell can fit inside the castle but I do want to make sure the lords are obeying the law Jon has set.”

“So you want me to go out and train or do you want me to bring them back here?”

“I do not want to have my sister leave again for I fear it will mean losing you all over again. However we do need to know if there is anyone who may be out there not receiving the training or the help they will need for this winter.”

“Why not send a small group? Make them trained men who can either bring them here or train them there. People you trust.” Arya suggests. “If you ask them to they will do it.”

“I know, but I also know many of the lords are upset that Jon has bend the knee to the dragon queen.” Sansa voices her fears. “Some may not welcome my request or deny them altogether.

“If they think of betraying Jon or you they will not live long.” The Hound joins the conversation with. Sansa eyes him with curiosity. The same look she use to give him back at the red keep. Only now there was a lack of fear inside it. The change was noticeable. “If any of the lords even tried to disobey you two then the dragon queen will see it as they are disobeying her. I don’t know her well but from what I heard she has killed people for just that before. Dragon fire is a powerful weapon.”

“I will not have her burn my people. Not when we need everyone to fight and remain loyal to us. Her swooping down with her dragons is but another thing I am trying to prevent. The North is vulnerable right now. More so than it has ever been.” Sansa tries to explain.

“Then I think the best choice is for a small group of men. We have plenty on patrol we can spare a few to go out and check on the people alone.” Arya adds.

“You’re right. I will choose the men, and tell them later what they are to do. For now I think we can all do some good from some fresh air.” Sansa stands from her desk and adjusts her gown so it was no longer bunched up near the end. “I actually have a gift for you.” She says to the Hound. Sansa leads them back to the sewing room that was not in use at the moment. She walks over to a closet and pulls out a bundle of clothes. “If you are going to serve in the north with Stark men. Then I will have you dressed properly for the cold. Your clothes you insist on wearing are old and tattered. They will not hold up as well as these will for when you go back over the wall. If you go back.” Sansa adds with a soft expressions. It was the first time he had seen her look like that in a while.

He takes the clothes from her and unfolds them. They were well made. He could tell she had poured a lot of time into them. Thick black fur covers the edges of the cloak as the suit itself felt tough. There were large paws on the shoulders of the suit. The fur would surely cover them any time he would rare the cloak.

“Why this?” He gestures to the paws.

“I know, The Hound was your nickname from the Lannisters. I wasn’t sure if you would appreciate the paws or not, but since the sigil of your house is three dogs I thought you should at least have a symbol of some sorts of it.  Even if you were never close to your family.” Sansa takes the cloak away from him. She frowns deeply at it. “I suppose it is not really you. I wanted to incorporate some yellows but we had none available. If you do not wish to wear these I can have new ones made for you, but I will have you wearing warmer clothes than those you are currently dawning.”

“They’ve kept me warm enough.” Was Sandor’s only response as he tightens his grip around the suits. She had made these for him? He can not remember the last time he was presented with a gift that was handmade by someone who cared enough to just do it, and was not paid.

“Sandor they are in tatters! I am shocked they have not fallen free from your form yet.” Sansa argues.

“Do you enjoy watching my form, my lady?” He asks teasingly still staring at the clothes.

“Watch it Hound.” Arya says lightly. The little wolf had just made a comment not to long ago about his feelings for the older Stark girl. Now she was warning him off. That was almost comical. What did she want him to do? To be honest, and not speak his mind? Girls, ladies, and lords, they are all too confusing.

“It’s alright Arya. I know it’s just how he is, sister. Would you mind waiting out in the hall, or perhaps checking on how the girl’s training is coming along?”

“Yes my lady.” Arya complies as she slips out of the door. Not before she gave the hound one last warning glare.

“I do wish you wouldn’t say such things in front of others.”

“She has heard worse.” Sandor replies.

“Sandor I understand you hate the clothes, but please look at me.”

“Is that what you think?” He asks as he throws them over his shoulder. “I don’t hate them.”

“Y-you didn’t say anything but point out the paws.” Sansa sounds worried and he thinks it could be because he was starting to take off his shirt. “What are you doing?”

“Trying them on. You wanted me to where them right? How did you know my size?”

“I didn’t know what your measurements were exactly, so I took some liberty by using my best guess. They may be a little big but I can have them fitted later.” Sansa says turning around as the Hound undresses. He feels a little disappointed that she would not choose to watch but what more can he expect from a lady. They would never look at a man who was not their husband undressing. Disappointing but even after everything she’s been through she was still in true a lady. Just like her lady mother. Just the opposite of her wolf sister.

“I think I will just go out into the hall while you change.” Sansa manages to get out as she walks around him the long way. Her face never meeting him.

“Why? I’m done.” The cloak was too long and the shoulders were a little wide but she was fairly close in all other regards.

“There will be a few changes needed. I’ll have them arranged for tomorrow. If you will.” She gestures to his old clothes.

“I thought you were worried about them falling off.” Sandor states.

Sansa sighs. “Wear them if you want, just remember you have to be there as well then for them to be fixed tomorrow.”

“I’m your sworn sword Sansa. If you’re there I will be, but I think you just want to go so that their tighter.” The Hound jokes his voice still as rough as it always is. He did not miss the blush spreading through Sansa’s cheeks.

“If you are going to speak that way then you will speak that way. However do remember to keep such comments to yourself when we are around others.” She turns her back to him and steps closer to the door. Yet she stops just short of it and looks back at him with a look he had never seen upon her face before. “Tighter clothing would look better for your upper half I think. Even if their is no saving grace for your face.” She smiles and strangely it was not anger he felt at her jab. When she said that her eyes were looking straight at him. At his scarred face without so much as a sign of disgust. She knew how to make the hound heel without command and of that he wasn’t sure how to feel.


	4. A Very Aggravating Situation

The Hound meant it as no joke when he told Littlefinger to leave. Yes he had meant his room before but now the Hound wanted him out of winterfell. Far away from the wolf girls he was trying to play. Sandor heard only rumors at first of what the man had said to Arya. Some say the girl only threatened him and he acted as a coward and left, but others claim Petyr was the one to threaten the younger Stark. All were just whispers and Sansa would not allow the Hound to act on the man with such baseless actions.

Instead she insisted that her sister can handle herself and if their really was a problem Sansa believed Arya would confide in her, but Sandor knew better. Arya would take care of it herself. He almost wanted to let her, but he knew what that would lead to between the two sisters. If it came down between the little wolf and her lady sister Sandor knew who he would choose, and he knew what would happen. A fight that ended with more blood split then kept.

So the Hound did what few others would have, he kept quiet. His ears stayed open, and he silently stalked around. Somehow the people thought he had grown taller all of the sudden, and the little wolf made clear that she noticed his sudden company was growing far more often. Wherever Lady Sansa went he would go, but wherever Arya would stalk he would be listening and near. It was difficult and far more effort than the man wanted to do, but he knew that he could into stop anything if he was not there. So Sandor slept less, and patrolled more. He had men at the each end of the hall where littlefinger slept. For if they were at his door he would raise alarm to Snasa who would move them away. Now all Sansa would say is that their were men in every hall and that Petyr will have to get over it. Sandor was now playing a game of his own despite how much he despised games. It made him grouchier around everyone and more pissed at Littlefinger then he had been before.

So when the day came and his lady called for a private meeting between her sister and herself Sandor stood behind Sansa seemingly immovable as the lady grew impatient. As the other guards left Sansa glowers at Sandor. She could glare and pout all she wanted, he did not wish to leave.

“Sandor I meant everyone.” Sansa turns her back to him and returns to her desk. Pretending to work as she waited. “Go. Now.” She orders once more. A bark that had a little edge to it. Sandor often forgot that she also had wolf’s blood in her. Not as much as her sister or bastard brother, but still it was there.

The door didn’t make a sound as Arya crept inside the room. Nor did it shutting echo across it. Sandor stared down the young she wolf, and realized just how much she had grown. If not in height definitely in her false smiles. He had seen that smile on women before. The ones who were planning a murder.

“I think my sister wants a break from your sight, Clegane.” Clegane? Arya had never referred to him as such before.

“I’m her shield girl. I stay if the lady wants me to or not. Too many cunts up North.”

“Arya is not, ugh.” Sansa stand abruptly. “If you will not leave then perhaps I will better off reinstating Brienne of Tarth. She knew to leave me when I asked.”

“I’m protecting you.” Sandor simply states look ahead at Arya instead of towards the fiery woman in front of him.

“Go now Sandor, or it will no longer be your job to protect me. I wish to speak to my sister alone. I should not have to argue with you about it. You are dismissed Ser Clegane.”

As much as he wanted to, Sandor could not argue with that. She only ever called him ser when she was overjoyed or completely pissed. Reluctantly he takes his leave from the room but went no further than the other side of the door. He heard Arya say they would have to speak low, and Sansa agreed. Then there was nothing but a few words here or there that left the whispers. Making a frustrated Sandor all the more unhappy.

When the door opens again. Only Arya came out of it. With a small smile, she was getting to good at hiding behind, the young girl told him that they were done. The Hound was quick to grab the sleeve of her shirt before she could get away.

“Hang on Little wolf.” He pulls her back towards the door with him.

“Why?” Arya asks not even putting up a fight.

The Hound did not answer her as he looks into the room. Sansa was not at her desk. He tightens his grip around Arya until he saw the redheaded wardeness. Her back was to them as she stares out of the windows farthest from them. The light from outside bringing to attention the red of her hair.

“You can go.” The Hound releases the young Stark from his grip.

“You think I will hurt her.” Arya voices his thoughts. The Hound does not bother to confirm them. “She’s my sister.”

“Aye, and you are dangerous. You two never got along at the Red Keep. I am only doing my job.”

“She isn’t your family. She’s mine, Hound. I would not harm her.”

“You would if it came down to her or that bastard brother of yours.” The Hound responds looking down at the girl who he had traveled with for months.

“We are on the same side. I’m protecting her just like you and Jon.”

“We better be.” He rasps. “With the white fuckers coming I do not want to worry about two wolves squabbling.”

“Winter is here Hound, and the pack survives.” With her words hitting his back Sandor went to Lady Sansa’s side. She knew he was there. He held no doubt she could feel the heat coming from his body. The winter garbs she had made him were effective against the cold. He did not appreciate being kept out.

“I have never met someone so determined to ruin the shared time between two sisters.” He wanted to laugh but held his words back. “Thank you for listening Sandor. I am sorry for sending you out but for now we have an arrival to plan for. Jon and Daenerys will be arriving by the end of the week. Before then we need to clear some things out to make space.”

They were about to go to war against unnatural forces, and she was worried about cleaning and good impressions. Daenerys may have dragons but one of those fuckers were taken down by the king of the monsters north of the wall.

“Yes. So please make sure everyone will be ready for a meeting tomorrow.”

Now he was tasked as messenger. Today was growing continuously more sour. “Yes.”

“Thank you. When you are done please join me at the table later in the great hall. I want you to join my family and I for dinner.”

Strange request, but not one he would complain of. “Yes Little Bird. I will be there.”


End file.
